Aura
by Gideon Loopyn
Summary: He lived 1666 years, and saw three people die three hundred thousand times. His sentence is up, and now he is setting it right. 4th Year AU. Creature!Powerful!Grey!Harry, Good Dumbledore and Likeable Voldemort. Slight Weasley bashing. Highly political. HP/HG/DG/FD/BL.


**Hello guys, I'm Gideon, and I bring you guys the prologue to my very first Harry Potter story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I, and yes, I am being vague for a reason.**

 **Disclaimer: I own fuck-all.**

 **Warnings: It's an M-Rated story, what do you expect? If I decide on lemons, I will create an account on HPfanficarchive to post them on.**

 **25** **th** **of May: Just fixed a couple of things, to make more sense. Surprising what a few words can do to change the outlook…**

Prologue

The change was almost immediately noticed. Of course, it wasn't Ron, he has, after all, as Hermione so eloquently put it, the emotional span of a teaspoon. Speaking of the female in the golden trio, Hermione noticed the change in Harry immediately. His posture was different, his eyes duller. To her, his eyes had always had a haunted look that always indicated to an old soul inside a young body; a tormented spirit inside an essence of innocence. This time, it was even more so. There was an air about him… she couldn't put her finger on it. Then there was the clothes. He had on an expensive-looking black tux, emerald green shirt and silver tie. She almost wanted to berate him for wearing Slytherin colors, but he looked good. He also looked a lot taller, and, not that she was looking, fitter. He looked like a track athlete, built for endurance and speed, but not lacking strength. Then, she noticed the cane. It looked very much like the one Lucius Malfoy always carried around, except the head was a griffon. It was inlaid with red lines, which ran up the shaft like vines. A staff foci, Hermione thought at once. As Harry entered the train for his fourth year, he looked directly at Hermione and she gasped. His eyes turned amber for a second, before reverting back to normal. He turned back to the entrance, and boarded the train.

By the time she next saw him, he was already in a sealed-off compartment. She knocked briefly, deciding that his new attitude was something that could turn on her if she acted like normal. The door opened, and Hermione saw Harry sitting in the compartment facing the door, looking out the window while fiddling with a chain in his hands absentmindedly.

"Hermione." He said simply, still looking outside. She did not know how he opened the door without getting up, because she knew it was him, however her peaked interest was downed when she saw his face properly, and not from afar. He had several scars running along his face, and she thought she saw the distinct puncture wounds of bite marks on his pulse point where his neck met his shoulders. Two separate marks. Hermione knew that he had allowed her to see them, why, she did not know.

"Who turned you, and what species?" was what she immediately asked. His far-away look stayed, even as he spared her a glance. "Sit, it's a long story and I need to confide in someone." He said, tearing his gaze away from the window and to her. The haunted look had stayed, and she knew, that whatever he said would be of the utmost importance. So she swore an Unbreakable Vow, and he began his tale.

 **-Gid-**

He had seen three people die three hundred thousand times. The exact same people. As soon as the last of the three died, he was back to day one. But when the three hundredth thousand death occurred to each, he was set free. He was sent back to when he could stop the horrors. The deaths. _Their_ deaths. He had cried the first few times. He stopped after the hundredth time. He hardened his emotions after a few thousand times, and eventually, he became emotionless to the world on his outer front. Inside, the emotions raged and festered as strong as they had on day one, building up, getting little release, driving him insane. He reckoned he went insane at around the two hundred thousand mark. By that time, he had seen the three people die in just about every way possible. He was broken. But they built him up again. And died again. But by this time, he had learned all one had to learn, so they lived longer, and died in less pain. His insanity soon went away. After all, being helped by a fellow insane person, and a half-breed with powers based around the mind was bound to help any nutcase, Harry himself included. The last three deaths were the most painful, because a fourth person was added to the group. And he broke down all over again. Then, as if by miracle, it stopped. He got time in the Limbo to rebuild himself. Then he got sent back, his 'sentence' completed.

Of course, he had landed smack-bang in the middle of the summer after third year. After ensuring a safe escape plan from Durzkaban, he went to Gringotts, told Ripthroat, his account manager, that he would be emancipated this year due to 'extraordinary occurrences', and got himself bunked in at the Leaky for the two remaining months. He undid the damage done to his body, mind, soul and core, making himself into the image of the fourteen-year-old he should have always been; five foot eleven, built like an athlete with a core the size of Dumbledore's. His physique was well-chiseled, and the James-clone Harry was gone, replaced by a man with the noticeable roguish looks of a Potter but with all the grace and aristocratic features of a Black; his grandmother was, after all, Dorea Black. He donned his hair in a messy short crop, and his green eyes pulsed with amber light every ten seconds. It was not hard to see why his father and godfather got so much female attention, and he was the best of both. As he built up his mindscape, he thought about the four most important people in the world to him. He had to come up with ways to keep an eye on them. To save them. And, almost the most important reason, to make them love him.

The four people that meant the world to him were all, in fact, women. Two his age, two his senior. He loved them all very much, even if they all had their arguably major faults. Hell, one of them had been a Death Eater, and another one was heading down that path. While he knew only two of them personally before his 'debt' fiasco, he probably knew more about them than anyone else alive, themselves included. He knew he couldn't mess up, no matter what. He could save all four this year, though two of them would take time to heal. One would take a very long, very exhausting and very emotional talk to come out of the shell she built around herself. One would need to be proven that Harry's feelings and friendship were legitimate, and that the dark was only a means, not an end. One would need to recognize that authority figures are human, hence make mistakes, and that friendship and love were well within her reach. The last would need to see that her nature was not a bad thing, and that a cold façade was not always necessary. Yes, he would have a hard time, but he was determined to save all of his soul mates, his anchors to the living world. It was what he had to do. So in his mind he chanted their names, knowing that he would save them. By saving them, he was, after all, saving himself. So he chanted.

 _Hermione Granger. Daphne Greengrass. Fleur Delacour. Bellatrix Black._


End file.
